


What's your Life Worth?

by PoorUnfortunateSoul



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Clubbing, Color Blindness, Drummer Hunk (Voltron), Happy Ending, M/M, Punk Keith (Voltron), Rising Star Keith, Sheith Secret Santa 2018, Sign Language, Singer Keith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 02:30:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17255939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoorUnfortunateSoul/pseuds/PoorUnfortunateSoul
Summary: Everyone around Shiro is in love with the idea of soulmates, but he's 99% sure his wants him dead.





	What's your Life Worth?

“My soulmate hates me,” is the first thing Lance declares when Shiro gets in his car.

Shiro snorts, as he buckles himself in.

“I feel like we’ve had this conversation before,” he says.

Lance sighs, and twists the bracelet on his wrist. Underneath the barely hanging on threads are the words, ‘Hi, nice to meet you.’

“Do you know how many people have said that to me today?” Lance complains.

Shiro checks the clock. One-thirty in the afternoon.

“Not many,” he says, “you don’t get up until noon.”

Lance groans, and Shiro can’t help but laugh.

“Hey, look at this way - at least yours doesn’t indicate that your first meeting with your soulmate means that they want you dead,” Shiro says, gesturing to his own wrist.

The words What’s your life worth? have been haunting him since he was thirteen. He’s imagined every scenario he can where it’s logical for someone to ask him that question before even saying ‘hello,’ but none of them have been good.

“Maybe yours doesn’t either,” Lance reasons. “They could just be a druggie on a weird trip.”

“So much better,” Shiro says dryly.

Lance laughs and they continue their way to class in relative silence. Lance turns up the volume on the radio and Shiro zones out. His and Lance’s music taste differ greatly, so he’s sure he wouldn’t like it even if he listened.

Shiro likes more laid back and Indie stuff that gets him laughed at, like Billie Eilish and Halsey. Lance, on the other hand, likes things with more beat drops and guitars.

Shiro’s forced back into reality when Lance slams on the breaks and Shiro gets caught in his seatbelt.   
“Come on!” Lance yells, “It’s fucking yellow not red, go!”

Shiro snorts at his friend’s road rage. Lance has the most patience out of everyone Shiro has ever met, aside from when driving. It’s like all the times he should’ve snapped come out once their inside of his little car.

“Better tell me what’s your life worth / I think it’s time for a change,” plays on the radio.

Shiro’s tattoo burns, and he looks down at it with wide eyes.

“Move, you fuckers, it’s green! Jesus, Shiro are you seeing this? Shiro?”

Shiro turns his wide eyed gaze towards Lance. Lance glances over to meet Shiro’s eyes, and they double in size as well.

“Your tattoo is glowing!”

“I am aware!”  
“How?!”

“I don’t know!”

“Holy shit!”

“Yeah,” Shiro agrees, numbly twisting his wrist.

That tattoo cements itself into a bright pink color, instead of the usual black. A half-formed bond, so Shiro’s has heard his soulmate’s voice, but his soulmate hasn’t heard his.

“Lance,” Shiro says, voice shaky, “who does this song?”

“I don’t know,” Lance says, shrugging helplessly. “I can check while we’re in class? I don’t usually pay attention anyways.”

Usually, Shiro would advise against such behavior, but considering the circumstances…

“Please,” he says, and Lance nods.

The rest of the car ride is silent, and Shiro is left alone with his thoughts.

=========

Shiro can’t concentrate all class. He feels bad, the professor who teaches this class is his favorite, but his mind won’t stop racing. Of all the scenarios he thought up over the past few years, his soulmate being a rockstar was not one of them.

He’d thought of something as simple Lance’s pothead theory before, all the way to actually imagining him as some sort of comic book supervillain. He’d ask Shiro what his life’s worth, Shiro would say… well, something, and he’d realize that Shiro is his soulmate and they’d rule the world together.

Shiro came up with a million scenarios, some even completely ridiculous, so go figure that one thing he can’t come up with is the answer. How is he going to meet a rockstar? How do you reach someone so far away, living a reality you can’t even begin to fathom?

Shiro has always been a logical person, expect for when it comes to soulmates. He thought his soulmate would find him, or fate would do it, but he never thought he’d have to go out of his way to find them. Which brings him back to, how the Hell do you find a rockstar?

Shiro’s mind continues in a loop until the class is over. He immediately searches for Lance in the sea of students rushing to get out of the door, and his friend isn’t hard to stop. Lance is jumping up and down and waving his hands, as if he doesn’t sit in the same spot everyday.

Shiro hurries over to him, and Lance waits until they’re in the hallway to shove his phone in his face.

“Keith Kogane,” Lance declares as they walk down the hallway. “Twenty-one years old, and the lead singer of an up and coming local rock band called The Red Lion.”

Shiro carefully takes the phone from Lance’s hand, and holds it at a reasonable distance so the screen isn’t just a giant blur.

“Local?” Shiro asks, scrolling through the article.

“Yup!” Lance says, opening the main door and carefully leading Shiro through the University’s parking lot. “I should’ve known; the main reason I keep that station on is because they play local bands. We’re catching them at a good time though, they were just recently signed to some record company that’s big in the rock scene. They have a few gigs at a nearby club that we can still catch them at.”

Shiro hums and gets in Lance’s car as he reaches the end of the article.

“I take back anything bad I’ve ever said about your life choices,” Shiro says, “excluding the one where you chose to go a show instead of paying your rent.”

Lance makes an offended noise that roughly translates to ‘I want to be mad but you’re right.’ Shiro puts Lance’s phone on his thigh, and pulls out his own. He Googles Keith Kogane, and clicks on article all about him.

It’s a standard interview, so Shiro ignores everything but the picture. It’s in black and white, and Shiro can roughly make out a scar running from his jawline to his mid-cheek. His eyes are trained on the camera, and he has the disinterested I’m-totally-not-trying-hard-to-look-good down. His hair is pulled back in a ponytail, with fringe framing his face.

He’s wearing a leather jacket over a red shirt, and a Kingdom Heart’s belt is looped around his waist. The picture cuts off there.

“He’s pretty,” Shiro murmurs, and Lance laughs next to him.

“I wouldn’t recommend calling a rockstar pretty. They’re usually rough and tumble kind of people.”

Shiro snorts and looks back down at the picture of Keith. Definitely pretty.

=========

“Are you sure?” Shiro asks, and Lance groans.  
“Shiro, you’ve asked that five times in the past half hour. Yes, I am sure that this is the place.”

Shiro looks away from Lance’s unimpressed face, and to the beat up looking building. The paint is chipped, and the roof looks half-caved in. The idea that a soon to be rockstar would be performing here isn’t something that’s going to click with him.

When Shiro thinks about bands signed to big name labels, he thinks of stadiums and adoring fans, not rundown night clubs and middle aged men looking to get drunk.

“Okay,” Shiro says, still not completely convinced.

Lance sighs and grabs him by the upper-arm. He leads him to inside the club, that looks even seedier than the outside. Shiro is uncomfortable almost instantly - crowded places have never been his favorite.

The closeness and pushing during concerts is Lance’s favorite thrill in life, but Shiro would rather listen to music in the comfortability of his own home. Thankfully, Lance recognizes this and pulls them to a secluded table in the back corner of the club.

“They’ll be on soon,” Lance says, glancing at his phone. “I’m going to get a drink, you want anything?”

Shiro shakes his head, and Lance is off. Sighing, Shiro rests his chin in his hand, tries to come up with how he’ll tell Keith that they’re soulmates.

Lance took the liberty of looking into the band more. It’s made of two people, and they both stay after to mingle with the crowd and get a few drinks. Shiro figures he’ll make his move then, but he doesn’t know what to say when he catches him.

Shiro worries for so long that he almost misses when the band enters the stage, just as Lance slides back into the seat next to him. His concert timing is as impressive as always.

Shiro’s eyes drift to Keith immediately. Much like the photo of him that he saw earlier, Keith’s hair is pulled back and he’s wearing a leather jacket over his blue v-neck.   
“He’s prettier in color,” Shiro murmurs, and Lance snorts into his drink.

Their drummer gives a short introduction to the band, and it immediately strikes Shiro as off.

“Doesn’t the frontman usually introduce the band?” Shiro asks, and Lance nods.

“Maybe he’s just shy?”

Shiro scrunches his eyebrows. Before he gets the chance to ask how that makes sense, considering that he can get up in front of a crowd of people and sing no problem, the band starts playing. Lance watches them enthusiastically, while Shiro mostly just watches Keith.

He’s heard the term natural born performer before, but Shiro is convinced that he never truly knew what it meant until watching Keith. He gets the whole crowd excited, and his voice always perfectly portrays the emotions of whatever song he’s singing. Shiro can ever feel himself getting into it, despite not enjoying the particular genre of music.

By the end of the show, even Shiro is feeling the post show glow. Lance chatters excitedly about the band to a group of girls next to them while they wait for the band members to join the crowd. Shiro knows the exact moment they do, because a shriek starts from the front of the club, that eventually reaches the back.

He watches Keith smile at few people, and nod occasionally as he makes his way through the crowd with the drummer (Shiro thinks Lance said his name his Hunk, but he wouldn’t bet anything on his memory) with a mix of anxiety and excitement swirling in his stomach. It’s oddly similar to the feeling of getting on a rollercoaster, and he can’t tell if he likes it or not.

“Oh, wait, wait!” Lance calls, catching Keith’s shoulder as they walk past to get to the bar.

Keith looks at him with a startled expression, and Hunk readies himself to jump in.

“Sorry-” Shiro tries, but Lance speaks over him.

“My friend has to say something to you before you go!” Lance says, pushing Shiro in front of him. “Tell ‘em, Shiro.”

Hunk doesn’t relax, and Keith is looking at him wearily.

“Uh, hi,” Shiro says, and Lance elbows him. Right. Better to get it over with, like ripping off a bandaid. “I know you don’t know me, but I’m your soulmate.”

It’s like the whole room starts holding its breath. Keith scowls at him, and Hunk looks disappointed. Lance is grinning at him proudly, somehow unable to read the room despite always bragging about his social skills.

“C’mon, man,” Hunk says, voice suddenly ragged, like he’s run out of patience. “This was supposed to be a nice night, don’t ruin it.”

“What?” Shiro asks, blinking.

Keith’s scowl deepens.

Like you didn’t fucking know, Keith signs, and Shiro blinks in surprise.

Maybe he didn’t, Hunk signs back. He’s seems kinda genuine.

You always think they’re being genuine, Keith signs, clearly exasperated.

“But I am being genuine,” Shiro says, and Keith and Hunk both look at him with wide eyes.

Shiro had been expecting it. He hasn’t come across very many people that can interpret sign language in his life either, but everyone he has is always surprised when he can understand him, much like other people are surprised when Lance can understand when they’re shit talking someone in spanish.

Keith and Hunk turn their backs to them, and start singing vigorously. Lance leans to try to see what they’re doing, despite knowing literally no sign language, but Shiro looks at the floor to give them some privacy. Keith makes a few unsatisfied grunts every now and again, that eventually start sounding defeated. They turn back around, and Keith crosses his arms over his chest. After a few seconds of an uncomfortable stare down from his soulmate, Hunk elbows Keith in the ribs. He sighs.

Come with me, he signs.

Shiro doesn’t have a chance to respond before Keith is grabbing his hand, and pulling him from the club.

“Hi, nice to meet you,” he hears Hunk say as they leave. “Sorry about Keith.”

Shiro doesn’t hear Lance groan in frustration, but he knows that he must have. He catches a glimpse of Lance’s sour face before Keith pulls him from the building all together.

Shiro stays silent, and lets himself be pulled. Keith’s face is screwed up in thought, and he’s clearly trying to process everything, so Shiro lets him. He doesn’t moving until they’re behind the building, and turns to look at Shiro with a fierce look in his eyes.

Do you really not know, Keith signs, and Shiro shrugs helplessly. Keith frowns. I made the mistake of telling an interviewer what my soulmark says. A fan tries to tell me that we’re soulmates at least once a show.

Shiro winces. What had he said to him? ‘Hi, you don’t know me, but I’m your soulmate?’ It is pretty generic, and not personalized at all. He can imagine the scandalized face Lance will make when he realizes that Shiro is a the same kind of asshole his soulmate is.

“Couldn’t you just tell who was lying and who isn’t when it changes?” Shiro asks.

I’m color blind, Keith signs, face souring in a different kind of frustration Lance showed. I’ve seen soulmarks change before, but I couldn’t tell the difference. Someone had to tell me it changed.

Shiro immediately feels twenty times worse. Not only did he leave his soulmate with a generic soulmark, but he’s also unable to tell who’s telling the truth.

“I’m sorry,” Shiro says, and Keith tries to shrug it off like it’s nothing, even though it’s clearly something.

Did your soulmark change? Keith signs, and Shiro nods. When? And what does it say?

Shiro rolls up his sleeve, and holds out his wrist. Keith’s face loses some of the coldness at the gesture. Soulmarks are important, and personal. Most people would think Keith rude for even asking what it says, let alone taking Shiro up on his offer and skimming his fingers over it.

Keith is gentle with Shiro’s wrist, like it’s something precious. Keith’s chest jumps inward in a silent gasp, running the pad of his thumb over the soulmark. It glows under Keith’s touch, and Shiro finds it tragic that Keith can’t see the beautiful way it glows.

When did it change? Keith signs, hands shaking slightly.

“In the car on the way to my college class, if you can believe it. My uh, slightly erratic friend is obsessed with a radio station that play local bands, and your song played.” Keith glances up at him, and Shiro smiles. “Can I ask you a slightly personal question now?”

Keith seems wary, but he nods.

“Why don’t you talk?”

He expects Keith to shut down, and winces at his own stupidity. Why did he think that was a good thing to ask?

Keith, however, seems unphased.

I have a stutter, Keith explains, blessing Shiro with his first easy smile of the night. It’s really bad. It used to take me ten minutes to spit out a simple sentence, back when my parents were still convinced speech therapy was the answer.

“But when you sing it’s so beautiful, and you don’t…” Shiro trails off, blushing.

He knows he and Keith are having some sort of oversharing moment, but Shiro hasn’t ever been a closed book. You ask, and he’ll answer. He gets the impression that Keith isn’t the same.

Keith’s smile gets bigger.

You use different muscles to sing than you do to talk, he explains, and different parts of the brain are used. So whatever’s damaged when I speak, isn’t used when I sing. Neat, huh?

Keith’s eyes light up when he explains it, and Shiro has to stop himself from fawning. He’s always adored people that get excited when they talk about interesting facts they like, so he’s not sure why he’s so awed that his soulmate is one of them. Maybe it’s because Keith is so different from what Shiro thought the world had in store for him.

“Very neat,” Shiro says, and Keith beams.

Can I ask you a question now? Shiro nods. Why do you know sign language?

“My brother, Ryou, went deaf from an infection when we were in middle school. He had a really hard time with it, but us both learning sign language made it a little easier. No one at our school knew any, so it sort of became our thing.”

Keith hums to show his interest in what Shiro is saying.

“Why did you tell an interviewer about your soulmark?” Shiro asks, and Keith winces.

He doesn’t shut down like Shiro thought he might, but he does look embarrassed.

I was obsessed with two things in high school - music, and soulmates. I thought if I put it out there, I’d find them quicker. Or, find you, I guess. I didn’t think of the consequences.

“Wait, did you just agree that we’re soulmates?” Shiro asks, feeling giddy.

Keith rolls his eyes, but Shiro can tell that it’s find.

Let’s go back inside, Keith signs, emphasizing it with a yawn.  

Shiro offers him his hand, and Keith takes it, suddenly shy after their talk. The club is empty when they go back in, save for a few tired looking employees and their friends.

“Oh, thank God,” Hunk says, when he sees their conjoined hands. “I was worried you were going to pass up on your soulmate there for a second.”

He gestures to Keith’s soulmark, that’s glowing like Shiro’s was earlier. Keith and Shiro meet eyes, realization washing over them at the same time.

“You could’ve just told him!” Lance laments, apparently having been caught up on Keith’s situation while they were outside.

Keith let’s go of Shiro’s hand to pounce on Hunk, who takes off running. Lance bounches up to Shiro happily as the two run around the club, narrowly avoiding the exasperated club employees who are far too tired and far too underpaid to care.

“That ones mine,” Lance says, holding out his arm prouldy.  
“Oh shit,” Shiro says.  
“Yup.”

“Lance.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Your tattoo!”   
“Yup,” Lance says, sighing dreamily.

Shiro lifts his hand for a high five that Lance returns happily. They both settle in at the bar, waiting for their soulmates to calm down so they can ask for their numbers.

“What a weird day,” Shiro says, and Lance hums in agreement, already half-asleep. “A long one too, apparently.”

Lance hums again, clearly out of it. Shiro snorts, and watches as Keith finally catches up to Hunk, and tackling him on the floor. He can’t believe that’s his soulmate.

**Author's Note:**

> This was my piece for the Sheith Secret Santa exchange & GOD did it feel good to write something for someone again! I still hate the begging & that my poor recipient got that garbage as their gift, but I ran out of time. Today was literally the last day to post, but maybe I'll come back to this one day and re-do it. I love punk Keith.


End file.
